


Crossing the Line

by PTlikesTea



Series: Bits and Pieces [5]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Body Horror, Gen, Homeworld is Horrible, Illegal Remodeling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-02 19:58:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14552421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PTlikesTea/pseuds/PTlikesTea
Summary: During the rebellion, with new restrictions on pearls, Orthoclase tries to find a way to keep her own very illegal Pearl safe.





	Crossing the Line

**Crossing the Line**

 

Once again, this fic is coming in a lot later than I would like, I am still on extended bed rest and certain treatments are leaving me a bit sore and groggy which is not an ideal state for fic writing. I'm hoping to be a bit more productive soon.

 

…..

 

The workshop door was flung open with such force that it clattered off the sulphate barrels sitting against the wall. Pearl, who had been peacefully downloading programs from the mainframe, jumped and accidentally hit the console. Three quadrants' worth of work down the drain.

 

“What...?” she began to ask before the look on Orthoclases' face made her stop.

 

“This is bad,” Orthoclase growled low, clutching a holoform so hard it was on the verge of cracking. “We need to go underground for a while.”

 

Pearl didn't ask questions, she simply started packing away the essentials as Orthoclase scrambled most of their data and wiped what she couldn't scramble. Despite how incredibly illegal their work was, they had only ever had to go underground once before. Orthoclase tapped furiously on the holoform, no doubt calling in as many favours as she could to secure their escape.

 

“Hematite has a port we can duck in,” she said, just as they were ready to leave. “You'll have to go gem, though. Sorry.”

 

Pearl shrugged. Orthoclase jabbed her with a probe and she dissipated.

 

…..

 

The journey to the port was nerve-wracking, Orthoclase was convinced she was being watched. She didn't dare take the tracer or hire a luger, but that meant walking through some of Homeworld's most populated spots at the busiest quadrant.

 

Already, she noticed how few pearls were out on the walkways. The ones that were out had other gems taking pains not to walk anywhere near them, even though they were obviously the ones that were found to be clean.

 

Pearl's gem was tucked carefully between two small sheets of lead-granule paper in Orthoclases' pocket, which in theory would stop sensors picking her up, but the only way to be sure was to pass through those sensors. If they were caught...

 

_We won't get caught. We never have._

 

But this was different. The rebellion had changed many things, but none so much as pearls. They'd never really been seen as a _threat_ before.

 

At the very least, it was going to change how Orthoclase did business. So many black market pearls had been purged, and more were going through the processors every cycle. It would take a while for even the legit ones to be sent for remodeling, and the black market had been a solid 70% of her business at least. That's if gems even _wanted_ pearls anymore, although they made life so much easier for gemkind the fear of another renegade would stop a good portion of the population from ever wanting one again.

 

And, although she was trying to avoid thinking about it, it put a target squarely on Pearl's back. Illegally obtained with no paperwork and no spike, even a mandatory iodine wash wouldn't make her look any less suspect. One quick scan would get her seized and processed.

 

_That's if they catch us before I can think of a way out._

 

… _.._

 

Once they reached the dock without incident and set up the new workshop in a purpose-built bolthole in one of the warehouses, Orthoclase finally explained what was going on. She even showed Pearl some shaky footage of the renegade pearl in action.

 

“Diamonds have issued new edicts for pearl ownership,” she said grimly. “Every pearl owner has to have their paperwork and registration number. They all have to be iodine washed, too.”

 

Pearl said nothing. She was too busy coming to terms with what the renegade was actually _doing._

 

_She's killed gems. Not under orders. She's killed them._

 

“Paperwork's not an issue, I can forge that easy enough,” Orthoclase continued. “Registration is a different story...”

 

“It's written into my programming,” Pearl said.

 

“Exactly. Even if we did shove the spike back into your gem the sensors would still pick up where we wiped your registration. Any ideas?”

 

“I'm afraid not.”

 

“Right,” Orthoclase sighed. “I'll think of something. We just have to sit tight until I do.”

 

Orthoclase was brilliant, Pearl had no doubt she'd come up with some fantastic plan. And even if she didn't, Pearl had lived a somewhat decent life. It wouldn't be so terrible to be processed.

 

…..

 

When the idea finally did come to her, Orthoclase wanted to smack herself for not thinking of it sooner. It was _so_ obvious!

 

“All we need to do is replace the configuration circuit at the base of the spine!” she crowed to Pearl. “Core's sake, it's so simple! That way we don't even have to plant the spike in, as long as the donor still had their spike...”

 

“Donor?” Pearl said, frowning a little.

 

“Well, yes. We need a donor pearl to get the circuit. Once it's in place it'll override your core programming but it won't affect your memory banks or personality.”

 

“I know that,” Pearl said, (and once again Orthoclase was impressed at how Pearl could express exasperation with no change in her expression or tone of voice) “but where are we going to get a donor with the restrictions in place?”

 

“I have a donor in storage,” Orthoclase told her. “I just need to animate it. It's been non-operational for a long time, but its circuit should still be intact. Not to mention it was practically brand-new when I got it...”

 

She could tell by the sudden tension in the room that Pearl didn't like this idea (though her face and body language remained the same) but what other options did they have? She'd change her mind when she saw the donor pearl, Orthoclase was sure of it. She pulled the donor's gem out of storage and set a pulsar to re-animate it.

 

The pearl's body sprawled across the operating table. It looked near perfect, except for its closed eyes and unmoving limbs. Orthoclase hadn't been able to fix it and the owner had just bought a new one in the end, and told Orthoclase she could do what she liked with the remains. Orthoclase hadn't had a use for it up until then. She turned it over and prepared her scalpel to make the incision.

 

“No.”

 

It was so unthinkable to hear Pearl refuse the thing that could very well save her life that Orthoclase didn't stop until Pearl grabbed her wrist and said it more forcefully.

 

“ **No. Stop.”**

 

“What do you mean, stop?” Orthoclase asked incredulously, dropping the scalpel. “You need this circuit, she's not using it....”

 

“I can't take hers,” Pearl said.

 

“She's dead! She has no use for it!”

 

“I know, but I can't,” Pearl insisted.

 

“She's not in any pain, I swear. She can't feel anything, she's _really_ dead.”

 

“I know,” Pearl repeated. “I can't.”

 

Orthoclase growled, kicked over a stool.

 

“If you don't get this circuit, you're going to get caught and sent for processing,” she hissed. “They're going to put you under the plates and crush you into dust. You understand that, right?”

 

“Yes, I do.”

 

“So, what, you _want_ to die, is that it?”

 

“Not especially,” Pearl shrugged. “But if that is what happens, so be it.”

 

Orthoclase sighed, sank onto the low bench that served as a makeshift rest pod, put her head in her hands to think. Pearl remained by the dead pearl's side, absently brushing the wrinkles out of her garment.

 

“Okay, so the problem is this,” Orthoclase said at last. “You are okay with getting a donor circuit, but not from this pearl.”

 

“That is correct,” Pearl confirmed.

 

“And if I bring in a pearl that's as dead as this one, we have the same problem. Am I right?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“So it has to be a living pearl. Any particular reason why?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“....”

 

“.....”

 

“Fine,” Orthoclase sighed again. “Give me a cycle or two.”

 

…..

 

Orthoclase barely spoke to Pearl while she was looking for a solution to their problem. She was annoyed, but she would get over it in time. What was more important was that she was looking for a solution at all; had she been any other kind of gem besides the brilliantly intelligent being she was, she might have insisted Pearl take the donor circuit from the dead pearl.

 

_No. I would die first._

 

The configuration circuit held a large store of core memory, memories that pearls didn't often share even when they were sharing memory before death. The dead pearl had a deep well of memories untouched, she had chosen to die with them. To be implanted with them against her will was more than Pearl could bear to even think about.

 

_She did not consent to me taking her memories._

 

There were pearls that had ended up with the memories of other dead pearls inside of them unwillingly, and it was a source of great shame to them though they hadn't had any part in it. To share memories by choice was the highest honour for a pearl, to have the process defiled in such a way was worse than death. But there was no way to let other gems know this, and they would likely dismiss it if they did know.

 

“I have something,” Orthoclase said eventually, after much angry tapping on the holoform. “We have access to a processing plant for one quadrant, I bribed the overseer. We find a donor there, if we don't find one I can't help you anymore.”

 

“That is very fair,” Pearl agreed.

 

One probe and a journey to the processing plant in Orthoclase's pocket later, Pearl reformed to face a row of pearls waiting to be processed.

 

“Pick one,” Orthoclase grumbled. “And quickly, if you can.”

 

It was easy for Orthoclase to make a demand like that; even asking the other pearls was deeply shameful for Pearl.

 

_What do you need from us, sister?_

 

The other pearls would not judge her for this, she knew well. No pearl would ever judge another for something out of her control, as almost all things were.

 

_I need a configuration circuit from one of you. I need to get past the sensors._

 

_You shall take memory with it, will you not?_

 

_I shall, but only with one who is willing. I will not take from one who does not will it._

 

_You may have mine, with my blessing. I have lived well._

 

The pearl who offered was a sweet-faced small model dressed in blue and white stripes. She looked in near-perfect condition.

 

“This one,” Pearl said, pointing to her.

 

“Are you sure?” Orthoclase asked.

 

“I am.”

 

_Thank you, sister. I will treat your memories as my own._

 

_That is good to hear._

 

A few careful incisions and the deed was done. Orthoclase propped up the pearl against the process machine; without her circuit, she was incapable of movement. Pearl, already distressed, nearly cried at the sight of her savior slumped over like a pearl that was already dead.

 

“Come on,” Orthoclase urged, pulling her out of the plant. “We need to get this done soon.”

 

…..

 

Prior to the operation, Orthoclase worried she had been too harsh with Pearl, if only because she seemed despondent. Her body language and voice were the same, she would never deliberately let Orthoclase know she was upset, but by now Orthoclase could tell.

 

“It won't take long,” she tried to reassure her as she was prepping the tools. “And it won't hurt.”

 

“I know.”

 

Orthoclase made her incision, peeled back the flesh and muscle and the structure holding Pearl together until she reached the configuration circuit. It was surrounded by little connecting threads hooking it up to every other part of Pearl's body, and they all had to be reconnected. Severing the old circuit and soldering in the new one took just the blink of an eye but she took her time on the threads.

 

“Stay still,” she warned as Pearl's body began to shake. “I'm trying to connect these...”

 

She stopped mid-sentence. She had never seen Pearl openly crying before.

 

 

 


End file.
